


Creeping Bastards

by Cinnamon1895



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, I kind of vomited writing it, It's really dumb, M/M, and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 04:50:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamon1895/pseuds/Cinnamon1895
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian can't take a shower</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creeping Bastards

    Sebastian rolled out of bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The digital clock glared 5:30 at him, an hour before he and Jim had be at that stupid fucking meeting. Spending the day in a board room while Jim intimidated people was hardly his idea of a good time, but he didn’t trust Jim on his own. Jim rolled over, pulling the sheet over his head.

    “You shower first.” Jim commanded sleepily. Sebastian nodded, and then realized his boss couldn’t see him. He leaned over and planted a kiss on the criminal’s head and got up. He made his way groggily to the bathroom, not bothering to grab his clothes. Jim would probably want to pick out his clothes for this meeting, ‘make a good impression’. He wrinkled his nose at the thought of having to wear a bloody suit all day. The bathroom light had been left on as usual. He picked a towel off the floor, sniffed it, and deeming it acceptable for use, draped it over the back of the toilet. The assassin reached down for the handle to turn the water on.

That’s when he saw it.

    The stupid bloody fucking thing was sitting near the goddamn bathtub drain as if it fucking lived there. Just sitting there, with its creepy eight legs and stupid little body. Sebastian could _feel_ it looking at him. He withdrew his hand slowly, and backed out of the bathroom, keeping his eyes on the little bastard. Once out of the bathroom, he scuttled back to the bed where Jim had cocooned himself in the sheet.

    “Uh, Jim?” he tried. No response. “Jim, uh, maybe you should shower first?” he tried again. Jim poked his head out of the sheet, hair mussed with sleep.

    “Why don’t you?” he asked sleepily, squinting at Seb. Seb just looked at him apologetically, rubbing the back of his neck. Jim groaned. “Is there a bloody fucking spider in the bathtub again? Jesus Christ, Sebastian.” He complained, untangling himself from the sheets and grabbing a shoe off the floor. He stomped over to the bathroom, Seb following close behind.

    “It’s, uh, in the tub.” Seb said embarrassedly. Jim rolled his eyes and entered the bathroom. He got on his knees near the tub.

    “I don’t see anything.” Jim said, looking up at Sebastian.

    “It was by the drain.” He prompted. Jim groaned and looked again.

    “This thing? Sebastian, it’s tiny! You do realize you kill people? For a living? And you can’t kill a fucking daddy long legs?” Jim asked, half mocking half sincere. Seb squirmed uncomfortably and crossed his arms in front of himself

    “Would you please just get rid of it so I can take a shower?” he asked. Jim rolled his eyes and brought the shoe down on the little creepy bastard, the sole making a loud _thunk_ against the porcelain of the tub. He stood again and walked over to Seb.

    “Now get in the shower, you bloody coward.” He complained, shoving the shoe at Seb’s chest. “You smell.”  Seb accepted the shoe gratefully, and stepped aside to let the criminal crawl back into bed temporarily. He dropped it on the floor and got in the shower, but not before inspecting the rest of the bathtub for any creeping accomplices.  


End file.
